


As Long As You Love Me

by teacupfulofbrains



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: #protectkeith2kalways, ARE YALL READY FOR MORE ANGST, M/M, allura is not an asshole for her reaction to galra keith, but HOO BOY is there some angst, idk lots of keith focus, kind of a character study?, lots of introspective keith, reactions to galra keith, so here you go!!, there's a happy fluffy ending, we have a lot of langst in this fandom but there is not enough keith angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-21 03:26:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11348886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacupfulofbrains/pseuds/teacupfulofbrains
Summary: Keith has always expected to live his life alone. He'd thought maybe Team Voltron would be the answer to that, but it's looking like his Galra heritage is going to get in the way.Not if Lance has anything to say about it.(or: the team's initial reactions to Keith being part Galra, and Lance being a Good Space Boyfriend when Keith flips out)





	As Long As You Love Me

**Author's Note:**

> ME: you should be working on that voltron!kimpossible!au you were talking about  
> ME, to ME: but what if, instead, we DIDN'T do that, and we wrote some quality galra keith angst instead??  
> ME: yeah sure sounds good to me  
> (voltron kim possible is coming!!!! i just thought that with the heavy dose of langst that is heroism gets you killed, maybe we should also have some keith angst. don't hate me, pls)  
> please enjoy, and let me know if you did!!  
> ily guys so much srsly thanks for all the positivity and feedback on heroism that's what inspired me to write this for y'all <3<3<3<3

Keith throws himself down onto his bed and lets out a long, low, long-suffering sigh as he attempts to suffocate himself with his pillow. His knife (sword? blade? Keith doesn’t even know what to call it anymore) is on the table near his bed, and Keith can’t bring himself to look at it. He’s spent countless nights, both here and on Earth, wondering about the secrets of the blade. But now that he knows, he’s not really sure that he wants to anymore. It’s causing him nothing but heartache as he watches his team – the closest thing he’s ever had to family – slide slowly away from him.

 

Shiro had reacted when they initially found out, at the headquarters of the Blade of Marmora, while Red was attacking and Keith was desperate to get them out of there. Shiro’s face hadn’t even been disgusted, just shocked, and something Keith thinks might have been concern? But when they’d gotten back to the team, any personal feelings Shiro might have had weren’t relevant anymore. Keith knows that he’s keeping calm for the sake of the team, presenting a calm front. He doesn’t have doubts about Shiro, though; right before they’d left Red, Shiro had caught him by the shoulder, squeezed gently, and whispered, “ _It doesn’t make you who you are, Keith._ ”

 

When they’d revealed it to the rest of the team, the reactions had been drastically different from person to person. Allura had been shocked, but unlike Shiro, her shock had quickly melted into disgust and horror. Now, she won’t even look at Keith, let alone speak to him. And Keith doesn’t blame her; he knows how much she and Coran have suffered at the hands of the Galra, knows that their entire civilization, their families, their friends, their fucking _planet_ have all been snatched from them. Keith doesn’t blame the princess, but that doesn’t mean her coldness doesn’t sting.

 

Coran, although clearly still struggling, is at least on speaking terms with Keith. He seems weird, though, awkward, like all of a sudden Keith is a stranger and he’s trying to relearn how to communicate with him. Keith is reminded of when he told people at the Garrison that he was gay – they smiled and laughed, but there was always that awkward tinge to it, because even though they said they were okay with it, on a deeper base level, they were uncomfortable, and always would be.

 

Pidge’s reaction had been a little unexpected, but not necessarily amiss either. They’d walked straight up to him, yanked his face straight down, and made very intense eye contact. “Um, what are you –”

 

“Are you going to grow the fluffy ears and can I pet them?” they’d asked, and Keith had almost thought they were joking. But they’d been completely serious, face not twitching in the slightest, and Keith hadn’t really known how to respond.

 

“I . . . don’t know? But, uh, sure? I guess, if I do, you can pet them?”

 

“Pidge, what the –” Hunk had started.

 

“Hunk,” they’d said, pushing up their glasses, “I have two words for you: _space cat_.”

 

Hunk’s face had lit up like a Christmas tree. “Oh my God, _Keith, you’re a space cat now!_ ” Kolivan had looked vaguely offended at this notion, but Pidge and Hunk had both smiled at Keith, and even though Hunk’s was still tinged with nervousness, Keith really hadn’t expected Hunk to jump right in and be okay with it. He’s content that Hunk isn’t running away from him (or pretending he doesn’t exist).

 

He’d been most worried about Lance’s reaction. They’d only gotten together shortly before the mission to the Blade of Marmora headquarters, and Keith’s anxiousness about the knife had been manifesting in outward bursts of rage. He’s spent so much time trying to pull Lance closer, and now that he has he’s done nothing but push Lance away. If Lance has noticed (or cared), Keith can’t tell. And he’s usually perceptive, but this has been taking up all the available space in his mind.

 

Lance had looked at him oddly, and it had taken Keith a while to place the expression. It’s quiet calculation – not necessarily cold, but a calm study, an assessment of all the different ways a situation could go down and a selection of the best reaction. Keith is far too familiar with that look; it’s the look he gives to everyone and everything when he’s not so fired up that his only thought is _I see the thing, I charge the thing, I stab the thing, I beat the thing_. He’s unused to being on the receiving end, particularly from _Lance_ , of all people. Lance is happy and bouncy and bright and loud, go-with-the-flow just like water. He’s intelligent, of course; Keith has seen his strategy in action on the Balmera and heard about how he rescued Slav on Beta Traz, but he’s not this – _judgmental_ is the first word that pops into Keith’s head, but a better word quickly takes its place.

 

_Analytical_. Keith’s people analysis is his survival skill, because even here with his team he’s socially awkward and aloof and unsure how to respond properly to human contact. (For most of his life, he’d blamed it on being raised in a shack in the middle of nowhere, but now that he knows he isn’t entirely human, he wonders if that takes part of the blame as well, or if it just enhances his naturally shitty interpersonal relationship skills.) But Lance has no need for that kind of survival skill, because Lance is an extrovert by nature. Wherever they go, Lance can make friends even before the rest of Team Voltron has touched down and exited their lions. He just gives off this warm, happy radiance that makes everyone want to be his friend. And Keith knows that Lance has his own demons, knows that he isn’t as seamless with people as he appears to Keith, but he’s still _good_ , still much better than Keith will _ever_ be.

 

Lance’s analytical stare had only lasted for a few moments, however. His trademark devilish smirk had quickly taken its place.

 

“So, Keith, if you’re half-Galra, and Zarkon is full Galra, does that mean you could be some kind of long-lost heir to the empire? Cause if you _are_ , we might not even need to beat them. you can just show up and challenge Zarkon’s claim to the throne and pull a fuckin’ Prince Zuko on them, am I right?”

 

“Lance, I’ve already fought Zarkon. I’m no match for him,” Keith says, but his reply is lost in Pidge and Hunk’s raucous laughter. Even Shiro is smiling slightly, and Coran and Allura just look confused (although when she accidentally makes eye contact with Keith, she turns away sharply, like it hurts her to look at him).

 

Keith groans loudly into his pillow again. He’s pretty sure, if he was in Allura’s shoes, it _would_ hurt to look at him. He’s nothing but a constant, daily reminder of the fact that her father, her family, her civilization, her entire fucking _planet_ were wiped out. At least they have a slim chance of maybe making it back to Earth someday – although Keith isn’t entirely sure that he wants to. Team Voltron is the closest thing he’s _ever_ had to a family in his life, and even though it currently appears to be crashing down in flames around his head, it’s still better than the empty void of sand and nothingness that awaits him if they go back to Earth. Hell, he’ll even lose _Lance_ if they go back to Earth; he knows Lance misses his family like crazy, and the second they touch down he’s going to be running home.

 

He lapses back into his coping skill, something Shiro has constantly warned him against but that he can’t seem to help doing. He plays through every possible scenario he can think of, compulsively thinking through courses of action. He gets through close to twenty-five different possibilities, each one more fantastical than the last, before he reaches a conclusion.

 

_There is no possible version of the future where I don’t end up alone again._

Keith can feel his heart shattering even as he pulls his fist back to punch the wall.

*~*~*~*~*

He’s locked his door – Allura had showed the paladins how to do it, while they were still on speaking terms. The only people who can get in without the passcode are Allura and Coran; because they’re Altean, they can press their hands against the door and bypass the code in case of emergency. So when it whizzes open, he doesn’t even bother to look up. He doesn’t think it’ll be Allura, but he still kind of wants it to be. He wants to talk to her, he wants her to yell at him and blame him and curse him for being Galra so that they can go back to normal.

 

“Geez, Keith, what did the wall ever do to you?”

 

Keith looks up when he hears Lance; the Blue Paladin is smiling softly, back in casual clothes (drawing Keith’s attention to the dirty, sweaty armor he’s still wearing), leaning against the doorframe and carrying something Keith can’t make out in one hand. He’d forgotten that Lance knows the code to his room, because they’ve been sleeping in the same bed more often than not. “Not now, Lance. I don’t have time for jokes.”

 

“Good thing I’m not here to tell any,” Lance says. He steps into the room, locks the door as it whirs closed, and sits onto the bed next to Keith. His long, tanned fingers reach out and wrap around Keith’s wrist, looking even darker than they are against his pale skin. Lance lifts Keith’s injured hand up to his face and gently kisses each of the raw, bruised knuckles before showing Keith what’s in his hand – a small roll of white medical tape.

 

Keith hates being taken care of, but he’s willing to make an exception for Lance. Most things Keith hates, he reflects, he makes exceptions for with Lance. As Lance winds the tape around Keith’s hand, he says, “I made a joke because you looked uncomfortable.”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Earlier – when you told us you were part Galra.” The alien race rolls off Lance’s tongue like he’d just said _when you told us you were the pilot of the Red Lion_ , like it was a simple, obvious fact instead of something that’s tearing their team apart (or at least, tearing Keith apart). “I made a joke about you being Zuko because I saw how much Allura and Coran bothered you with their reactions. Even with Pidge and Hunk, you seemed kinda off-kilter. I was trying to lighten the mood.”

 

_So how do_ you _really feel about it?_ Keith wants to ask, but he doesn’t. Instead, he says, “Well, it’s not like it matters. I’m going to be alone anyway, so you didn’t need to try and make me feel better.”

 

“Whoa, whoa, back up there, Keith!” Lance pauses to look Keith in the eye: Keith looks away from him, refusing to look at the eyes he’s fallen in love with. “I don’t know where you got the idea that I’m going to abandon you, but –”

 

“Don’t fuck with me, Lance,” Keith snaps. “Allura already hates me, Coran’s pretending he doesn’t but we both know he does, Hunk is just uncomfortable, Pidge thinks I’m a science experiment, and Shiro can’t even _tell_ me how he really feels because he’s got to keep a calm façade for the rest of the team!” And Lance is silent, watching Keith with something strange in his eyes, and Keith reads it as pity. “Oh, what, you feel sorry for me, Lance? Well don’t! It doesn’t even matter that the closest thing I’ve ever had to a family hates me now, because once we defeat Zarkon and we go back to Earth, I’m gonna be all alone again _anyway_! Pidge is gonna find their brother and dad and they’re all gonna go back home, Shiro is gonna go home, and you and Hunk are gonna go home too!”

 

Keith isn’t sure when he stood up, but he’s pacing now, throwing his arms up in big, broad gestures, and he’s keenly aware that he sounds petty and childish and _so fucking bitter_ but he doesn’t _care_ anymore. “You’ve been telling us how much you miss home since we got here! You’re gonna go running right back into the arms of the people who love you and care about you and I can’t even stay up here in space with Allura and Coran because _they hate me now! So I’m going to end up all alone again while everyone else falls straight back into their real families, because my fucking family is falling apart at the goddamn seams!_ ”

 

Lance hasn’t said a word, but his mouth is slightly open, and his eyes are wide in shock. Keith snatches his knife, and it glows in his hands, expanding into a larger sword. “ _Do you see this?_ ” he screams, shoving the blade so close to Lance's face that he actually leans back to avoid getting cut. “ _Do you see this blade?! THIS IS WHO I FUCKING AM NOW, LANCE!”_

 

Keith forces his way out of the door and sprints as fast as he can towards the hangar. He isn’t sure when he started crying, but by the time he reaches Red, tears are pouring from his face. He flings himself into her cockpit, feels the concerned growl rumbling through him as she tries to assess if she needs to attack someone for hurting him.

 

“Fly,” Keith chokes out. “Just fly. Get – get me away from here. As far as you can.”

 

Another low, reassuring snarl, and Red is rocketing forward. Keith throws his helmet to the ground with the sword, which retracts back to a knife the second it leaves his fingers. He shuts off the comms system and wraps his hands around the controls, but he isn’t flying. Red hurtles through space, Keith too focused on calming the whirlwind of chaos in his mind to control where she’s going. Anywhere, he thinks, is better than here right now. 

 

When Red comes to a halt, Keith looks up; the planet she’s found is nothing but soft, rolling hills of a plant that looks like grass except for its unnaturally red hue. He strokes her control panel softly. “Thanks, girl. Good kitty.” Red purrs as she lets him out, and her protective shield comes up even as Keith flops face-first into the strange plant. It’s velvety, and Keith is unashamed to admit he spends a good minute rolling around in it. But he’s still angry, so he takes out his bayard and begins hacking at the plant, which comes up to his shoulders. He’s pleased to find that even as he mows down massive swathes, it grows right back to its original height.

 

He isn’t sure when he picks up his new blade. But he’s whirling through the grass double-bladed, and by the time he finally collapses onto the ground again, he’s so exhausted that he closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again, the light is much dimmer; the planet must have had some kind of sunset. There’s a silhouette in front of him, a little way off, sitting with its knees pulled to its chest, and for a moment Keith thinks it must be one of this planet’s native inhabitants. When he sits up, stretching slowly, his retracted bayard and shrunken knife slide off his chest, and even as he lets his bayard slide into his armor and sheathes his knife he sees another lion sitting next to Red, barrier glimmering in the dying light.

 

Keith approaches the other figure, sitting on the top of a hill that drops away sharply into a cliff face, letting their legs slide down over the edge of the cliff to swing back and forth slightly. He sits down next to the other paladin, suddenly feeling his face burn with shame.

  
“Hey, Lance.”

 

“I was made fun of for mixed heritage as well,” is Lance’s response, and before Keith can even process than, he continues, eyes fixed on a point in the distance. “My family is Cuban, y’know? So we got all kinds of flak. Must’ve been at least once a week, someone asked me if I was a communist or a fascist or an illegal immigrant. And it was hard, really hard, because I was convinced that I was gonna be alone forever.” A soft breeze blows, ruffling Lance’s hair, and the dying light paints his face bronze, highlighting each and every feature with stark contrast between soft light and black shadows.

 

“Then I met Hunk. And he was mixed heritage too – he moved in from Hawaii, and people were constantly teasing him about that. So we kinda stuck together, out of necessity, and then we became best friends. And he followed me to the Garrison, and even when he learned I was bi he just smiled and said he was pan and he’d been trying to tell me for so long but he didn’t know how I’d respond. He thought I’d decide he wasn’t worthy of being my friend and he’s be alone again. And do you know what I told him?”

 

Lance turns to Keith, and there’s fire in his eyes. “I told him I could not care less about his heritage or his sexuality or anything like that, because I was fucking tired of being judged on those characteristics. I told Hunk –” and Lance leans in, cupping Keith’s face with his hands, enunciating every word sharply and clearly “– that he should _let me decide for myself_ whether people are worthy of my friendship. Or my love.”

 

And then Lance kisses him, and Keith’s brain shuts down. He’s always wondered how Lance is such a good kisser, because it makes his blood boil to imagine anyone kissing Lance that isn’t him, but he really is. Lance’s tongue slides into his mouth easily, and even though Keith is really clumsy when he tries to keep up he’s learning fast, and Lance is still absolutely amazing. He nips at Keith’s bottom lip, rubs their noses together, slides one hand up around the back of Keith’s neck to tangle his fingers into the bottom of Keith’s mullet and tug at his hair. Keith melts against Lance’s chest, and when Lance pulls back just enough to make eye contact, he whispers. “I’m sorry, Lance.”

 

“I understand being afraid of people’s reactions,” Lance murmurs, brushing stray hairs out of Keith’s eyes. “But you should know by now – I’m _so fucking infatuated_ with you, Keith. I’ve been in love with you since I saw you at the Garrison and you didn’t even know I existed. I couldn’t care less that you’re half Galra, as long as you promise me that you’re still all mine. Can you do that?”

 

“Of course,” Keith laughs, breathless and weightless and feeling so stupid for ever doubting how much Lance loves him, even as his hand comes over Lance’s against his face while Keith’s other hand is held against Lance’s chest. “Of course, Lance, I’m always going to be yours.”

 

“And I’m not going anywhere,” Lance whispers, breath warm against Keith’s face, smelling sweet even as he leans in for another soft, swift kiss. “Except back to Blue, because we really need to get back to the castle.”

 

When they stand, Lance reaches out and links their fingers together, squeezing lightly because he’s holding Keith’s injured hand. “Don’t worry about Allura, alright? It came as a big shock to all of us, and she and Coran did lose everything. But I’m sure she doesn’t blame you personally – she just needs time to adjust to the fact. She’s the same way with the Blade of Marmora.”

 

Keith is still slightly stung by Allura’s reactions, but with Lance’s presence right by his side, he doesn’t particularly care at that moment. He’s focused on the feeling of Lance’s fingers intertwined with his, the softness of their shoulders bumping together, the way Lance looks with the breeze ruffling his hair (which has gotten longer, to the point where he almost has a mini mullet like the kind he constantly teases Keith for having) and beams of light dancing across his face. But nothing can match the light of Lance’s smile, the soft one he reserves for Keith and Keith alone, and the warm, fiery love in his eyes every time he glances back at Keith. He thinks that Allura can take as much time as she needs to come to terms with his Galra blood as long as Lance will stay by his side - and Lance clearly intends to stay for a very long time.

 

And he’s never been more thankful that he was catapulted into space by a giant blue robot cat than he is right then, as Lance pulls him in for one more kiss before they board their lions, purring contentedly in the back of his mind.


End file.
